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contours provocations
journal - 2004-0116 - 2130 Work; Cats; Meds; Signing A disquieting week at work. Intrigue, gossip, rumors. There have been a lot of changes made in the last six months. But I keep thinking of the phrase "rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic." As I sit here, the cats are playing chase. One will chase another through the house at whirlwind speeds. Then back the other way. One will hide behind the furniture and jump out. I can hear them on the kitchen counter; a moment later, they're in the windows in the bedroom. Now suddenly it's very still. There's only the tiny click of claws on the wood floors. I know they've decided it's nap time, and off to the bedroom they go. The outdoor kitty is still around but very skittish. I place food on the back stairs for her in the morning and evening. But I've also seen other felines in the yard, so I'm not sure if she's getting her din din. The mystery of the missing outdoor food bowls continues. At lunch, I noticed that both bowls were gone, again. So after work, when I stopped at the grocery for supplies, I bought a pack of paper bowls. Yesterday, I didn't feel good, so I stayed home and slept. Got up at noon, intending to go to work, had lunch, and felt worse, so back home I came. This morning, I again felt lousy and stayed home. Around 10, I thought I'd better go to the clinic. It didn't take long to be called back. No temp. But my blood pressure was alarming. He asked me if it ran in the family, and, of course, it does. So he gave me prescriptions for an antibiotic and a blood pressure med - benicar. When I got home, I took both and noticed a rash about 30 minutes later. I read the drug lit, and this is a side effect. One of many possible side effects. Other than the rash, I didn't notice any other effects. Tomorrow I'll give more thoup0000000000000000000ykght to continuing or asking for something else. (The effect in the above paragraph was caused by one of the cats walking across the keyboard when I went to the bathroom.) After visiting the clinic, I stopped off at the deli for lunch. They were crowded, and the only vacant table was next to a group who'd combined two tables. Usually groups like this are loud, so I try to avoid them. When I sat down, I glanced over and noticed that one of the group was very attractive with black hair and a dark stubble of a beard. To his left was a blond with a slight goatee and striking light blue wolf eyes. I then saw someone slightly younger with the same look; a brother, most likely. Trying not to be too obvious, I turned back to my magazine. At some almost subliminal level, I became aware that I didn't hear any talking from the group. When I looked over, there was an animated sign-language discussion in progress. There was nothing reserved or restrained about this signing. It was as if they were reshaping the air. The blond guy's movements were thrusts and jabs; his whole body plunged forward when he signed. As I watched I realized they were only paying attention to each other. But of course you would have to if you were signing. You would almost always have to watch the other person. When one person signed, heads turned in that direction. (As I spied on the group, I remembered seeing years ago a version of Dylan Thomas' "A Child's Christmas in Wales" performed by a deaf company of performers and narrated by Michael Redgrave. What a splendid production!) After about another ten minutes, the group left. I was almost sad to see them leave. PAX! journal | archives | home | e-mail |
The story of two guys who extract plastic bags from trees.
"Stuff having to do with bag snagging still comes up. People think of bags in trees, and they think of us. ... An Irishwoman says that in Ireland bags in trees are called "witches' knickers."
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